Eye for Eye
by AppropriateLlama
Summary: Stark Tower being finished in New York is the catalyst for a series of events wherein Dakota loses all control and Helena just might find some. It isn't long before the sisters are individually entered into the Index and trying to cope with what happens next—the aftermath of the Battle of New York can and will go both ways. Eventual Xover with Cap America: TWS and Agents of SHIELD.
1. Chapter 1

**Eye for Eye**

 **theAppropriateLlama**

* * *

 **Genres: Family, Friendship, Romance (Plus the typical _Avengers_ superhero-y adventure stuff)**

 **Categories: This is placed in the _Avengers_ section because it's the closest to encompassing the Marvel Cinematic Universe. This story will touch upon aspects of the MCU as shown in media including but not limited to: _Captain America, Avengers, Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.,_ and potentially _Marvel's Daredevil_ and _Marvel's Agent Carter_ (if I ever get around to watching those).**

 **Thank you for clicking on this story!**

* * *

26 October 2002

DAKOTA WEISS  
AGE: 15  
NOTES: Paper, glass, and flower petals very realistic. Having trouble with gravel and sandpaper.

* * *

It had been big news a while ago and, as was her responsibility, she had to cover its resurgence. She did less of the writing and more of the investigating—one of her best and worst features was how very obsessive she got over a story once it was in her hands. Her gaze would be fixed only on the task at hand, her brow furrowed in the way that it did when she was thinking. Dakota Weiss, as her sister always said, was ill-suited for a desk job. Whenever she had to drag herself back to her allotted spot in the ice cube tray to type out her story, her legs bounced and her fingers twitched with a need for less sedentary activity. She just couldn't sit still, no matter how hard she tried to keep her heels on the ground, no matter how much paperwork she had to do that would benefit from being seated and stationary.

At the moment, she was on the phone with a colleague, discussing her next job. Dakota tucked strands of dark blond hair behind her ears and precariously balanced the phone on her shoulder as she answered, still typing away. Pleasantries aside, Andrew Lloyd was not someone she was exactly keen on speaking to for longer than necessary. He made her squirm when he mentioned anything that remotely reminded her of their past relationship (not that it had been a very long one, nor very long ago), which pretty much meant anything other than the task at hand. Now, though, he was mercifully discussing the latest news.

"So, Stark Towers is being finished soon, a few blocks away."

"Tower," Dakota merely said, hands flying over the keyboard with practiced ease.

"What?"

"It's Stark _Tower_ , as in just one." _Click click click._ "Though I don't blame you—seems like everyone's making that mistake. But, rest assured, it's still just one building."

"Well," continued Andrew, "at any rate, it doesn't change the fact that it's going to be amazing."

"If it actually works? Yep. Definitely will be." _Click. Click click click._

"Oh, come on, Dakota! You can't tell me you don't trust the great Stark to work his sciencey magic and wow everyone— _again_ —do you?"

"I trust you to sound like a fanboy every time Tony Stark is mentioned," she said, starting another file on the computer through which to copy her notes. "And I don't quite think it's that simple."

"Of course it's not _simple_ —this is Stark Industries we're talking about."

Dakota sighed. "Yes, I believe he'll do the damn thing. He's a genius, remember? I'd almost make him president if he weren't so pigheaded."

"Where do you get that idea?" he asked, taken aback.

"He's building himself a monument and plastering his name in huge letters. Need I?" Andrew huffed, but Dakota knew he wasn't really upset.

"The company _is_ called _Stark_ Industries, after all. But I digress. You're planning on speaking with Pepper Potts, right?"

"Just a tad." Dakota swiveled in her chair and leaned back, almost ready to clock out for the day. "I'm not exactly eager to talk to Stark—I've heard enough about him to not want to—but, from what I remember, Pepper Potts is friendly enough."

"She's the one to go to, without a doubt." Dakota was about to say something, but Andrew was interrupted by someone speaking to him. She couldn't hear anything but mumbles, and then Andrew came back to the phone. "Sorry. I'll have to leave you—I mean, hang up, now. Duty calls."

Dakota winced at the slip up, thinking that it was ridiculous that there was still this annoying tension between them, as if they were still in high school. "Yeah, that's fine. I'm clocking out anyway."

After hanging up, Dakota collected her things, saved her files, and gazed out the window of her office as the sun began to dip below the city skyline. She reached for her phone and dialed a number. Five rings and, as expected, no one picked up. Still, undeterred, she set out on her way, deciding to make a few stops before going home.

* * *

 **8888**

It was oddly silent when Dakota turned the key in the lock, pushed the door open with her elbow, and made a beeline for the kitchen. She deposited her highlighter-yellow bags on the counter and went back to lock the door, then began the arduous process of sorting what she'd brought. She still had no idea where things were supposed to go—they changed so often, she couldn't get used to any placement.

After she finished putting away the groceries, she set about looking for her sister, who was usually busy by now. It wasn't odd for it to be quiet, but it usually wasn't.

Dakota found her in what should have been a dining room. No actual dining (or very minimal) happened here. A small office or cubicle never cut it for Helena. She always did her work spread out on a dining table, rather than piled on a desk. The tabletop was painted white by numerous papers in neat, very short piles. Various shiny items—none of which Dakota recognized—were scattered around the table, whereas more familiar tools, like test tubes and magnifying glasses, were towards the end. On the furthest side of the table, Helena was fast asleep, cuddling with her microscope.

Dakota went around to gently nudge her shoulder. Helena stirred after a few moments, rubbing her face and stretching. She seemed to just realize her older sister was there. Helena picked up her discarded glasses from the table and ran a hand through her brown locks—Helena never dared to dye or bleach her hair like Dakota did—pulling them free from her ponytail.

"Have a nice nap?" Dakota inquired, smirking. She watched as her younger sister rolled her eyes and returned to her papers, putting in order the ones she had disturbed with her falling asleep.

"I was working," said Helena. She frowned as she removed her now wrinkled lab coat, which she'd most likely kept on after leaving the lab.

"Very productively, too—I can see it must've been really interesting." Dakota took the only other chair at the table and took this opportunity to look at her sister. She looked tired—not just from sleep, but from weariness. Her hair was a mess of stray strands that couldn't decide where to go. Her patchwork-eyes were bleary and barely alert.

They didn't see each other very often, but since they had moved in together a couple of weeks back, they were just beginning to find a rhythm. After the first few days of cohabitation, Dakota had noticed that Helena wasn't always as chipper and happy as she'd seemed whenever they hung out before. She supposed something must have changed, or she just hadn't paid enough attention to her before. Living together was a good opportunity to notice all sorts of things about people you thought you already knew.

"It's good enough, I suppose." Helena sighed, wrapping up the microscope to store it properly. "I wanted to study something else—I used to, when I first began with them—but, lately, they've just been telling me what to research, what _they_ need done, and it's always for commercial products of little importance."

"I'm sorry to hear that." And she was, really. Dakota knew firsthand what it was like, being delegated work and being unable to choose what you wanted to work on or cover. She still sometimes felt like that. But she imagined, somehow, that it was worse for Helena, who had to intimately study and document her research in ways Dakota didn't have to do. She pictured Helena, hair in a messy bun, crisply pressed lab coat, and sharp, heterochromatic eyes focused on rows of numbers, lines of data, and stacks of scribbles.

"It's fine. Really." She gave a halfhearted smile. "I'd just rather focus my attention on something besides rocks and what minerals are best for the newest eyeshadow. It's not really what I studied."

"Come on," said Dakota, nodding her head towards the kitchen. "I brought groceries. You need food."

"Okay."

Within a little while, the two sat opposite each other at the island in the middle of the kitchen, picking bits of sandwich out of their teeth with toothpicks. They weren't strangers, but living together for the first time since before Dakota left for college was a surreal experience; it was too easy to see how different they had become. Dakota was in journalism and communications, dealing with people and businesses. She was usually out on the go, given her aversion to desk work. A pair of comfortable heels, a pencil skirt, and a blazer—and, of course, her special brand of stealth—were her uniform and tools. Her gray eyes were rarely diverted from her current goal; in other words, she had a serious case of tunnel vision. But she could afford to do that, and, when she was done, she would start all over again with her new task.

Helena, her junior by three years, was far quieter, but no less obsessive. Armed with a white lab coat and goggles, she spent most of her days (and some nights) in a research facility. It wasn't that she didn't like the outside world, but that she loved the beauty of breaking things down to the core—to the whys and hows of their function and being. She had an intense need to know _why_. She didn't look professionally attractive, like her sister's line of work demanded; her job was far less glamorous. The only thing really striking about her was her eyes—they used to be mostly the gray-blue of her father's, but, from a young age, her heterochromia had begun to spread hazel and ash brown patches in both irises. Her eyes hadn't changed for a while now, but they were hidden behind thick glasses.

"Kota?" Helena said, breaking the silence and bringing Dakota out of her thoughts.

"Hmm?"

Helena took a shuddering breath. Dakota frowned and moved forward as if to comfort her somehow, but she didn't know how. The younger sister took off her glasses and rested her forehead on her wrist, holding her head up with her forearm as she avoided Dakota's searching gaze.

"What is it, Lena?" her sister asked carefully, as if defusing a bomb.

"I'm going to have to leave." The air was heavy with the weight of her words.

"Leave? Leave where? Why?"

"The research facility," she said, her voice small and fragile. "They want to send me away, to Washington, or Colorado, or I don't _know_ where—and, if I want to keep my job, I have to go." Dakota's brows furrowed as she glared off to the side, fidgeting in her seat and tapping on the countertop.

"Why would they do that? Can't they find someone else?"

Helena shook her head. "They're sending everybody. Well, almost," she corrected herself. "But the majority of scientists are being sent to other facilities. They want to start pushing us for results."

"What, are they worried about competition?" Dakota scoffed, as if the thought was completely ridiculous. She set about picking up the plates and napkins they'd used.

"Actually, yes. They get funding for their research, but only insofar as they get results and scientists willing to work for them." Helena gathered the rest of their mess, and the two busied themselves cleaning whatever they'd managed to dirty. "As I'm sure you know, Stark Industries is opening a branch in New York soon. There's been researchers and developers applying for positions for months now, when the building was just a concept Pepper Potts announced after the disaster that was Stark Expo. Some of our own have been applying, and now the facility's shipping people out, as if that'd stop them from leaving."

"Well, why don't you just apply at Stark Industries, then?" Dakota asked, as if it were the obvious solution. "You could just leave, too. You've been wanting to for a while—I can see it. Besides, Stark does tech and robotics—kind of, maybe, a little bit more up your alley than this thing you've already got going."

Helena deflated, laughing without humor. "It's not that simple. Stark only takes the best of the best of the best—and I'm not. Not to mention people have already been applying for month to a half-finished building. Everyone's vying for employment there, and I only have a couple years of real experience compared to most people applying, who'll all have at least seven to ten to start out with. Not to mention, I don't have the degree that he'd want. I'm sure he's looking for engineers."

Dakota didn't really know what to say to that, so she went and gave her sister an awkward sort of hug, wrapping her arms around the younger's shoulders. She was slightly taller than her, but they were both pretty tall anyway, with borderline broad shoulders. They weren't big on hugging, but Helena smiled and reciprocated, acknowledging the attempt at comfort.

"Don't worry," said Dakota. "Everything— _everything_ , I say—is going to be all right."

* * *

 **8888**

Dakota was excited. She was awaiting a call back from Pepper Potts—the woman who basically ran Starks Industries. She had spoken to her many months ago to follow up on plans for Stark Tower and had been told everything that was in the works—most notably, how it was going to be the first building to be able to run itself, disconnected from the municipal power grid.

The structure itself was more or less finished by now. Just last month, the letters spelling out "Stark" had been placed onto the building overnight—Tony Stark, in his Iron Man suit, had himself flown to put everything into place. This month, Pepper was arriving to finish overseeing the interior of the tower. It would be a couple of weeks, but, afterwards, the tower would eventually be open and fully staffed. Dakota was hoping to speak to Pepper during her brief stay, and, after a few days and a couple phone calls, she got her chance. Pepper called within the first few days of February, and Dakota was to see her a few days after she arrived at Stark Tower.

Staring up at the enormity of Stark Tower was an odd sensation. Dakota knew it would soon become a central and powerful part of Manhattan, and it would house incredible intellect and influence, but it was just a building right now. It was a skeleton for what would become a beefed-up body of world-revolutionizing innovation. It barely had furniture.

"Dakota Weiss?"

The journalist tore her gaze from the top of the building to the sidewalk where Pepper Potts was just walking towards her.

"Pepper Potts," she greeted the CEO. "It's a pleasure seeing you again."

"Likewise. I was just on my way back." She waved her Starbucks cup proudly.

"You know your way around New York pretty well," Dakota noted with a pleasant grin.

"Not too well. Just enough to function, but I'll be getting to know it when the Tower is finished."

"Which should be soon, I believe?"

"A few months, at the latest." She gestured to the doors. "Shall we?"

They walked through the ground floor, which housed a generous reception area. It was more or less furnished with the bigger things like couches and desks, but lacked computers and chairs. Pepper began to talk as they walked through the building's ground floor and then to the elevator.

"On some floors, like this one, they've already brought in large pieces of furniture. The carpeting for most floors has been finished, but there are still at least a dozen empty and undeveloped floors that will be planned for after the building's already up and running. There's about sixty floors, as you know, and the top ten are all strictly research and development. After that, there's human resources, legal offices, and all the other stuff that businesses require. Those are the things that need to be worked on now."

Pepper pressed a button on the elevator—one of several dozen—and up they went.

"The elevators are working, but the floors that aren't done will not be available without a key, so it won't be much of a problem after the building opens."

"Are you or Mr. Stark relocating to Stark Tower once it's finished?" Dakota inquired.

"Probably both of us," she said, "at least in the beginning. There will be plenty to oversee from here, and it will most likely become the new headquarters."

The elevator doors opened up to a floor—any floor, really; Dakota assumed they mostly looked the same right now. Pepper led her forward and stated that this floor was to contain her office, so she had wanted to see what it currently held; so far, it merely had a desk and a couple of unadorned beige divans. That was where Pepper and Dakota sat for a while, discussing Stark Industries, Stark Tower, and future prospects for each of those.

"Okay," Dakota said, looking through her notepad of things she'd taken down from her interview with Pepper. "I think this is good. Is there anything else you'd like to say? Anything you want me to put out there for publicity, or even anything you _don't_ want to be said?"

Pepper smiled kindly. "You're considerate. I've been met with far, far worse reporters. I think it'll be fine."

"I'm the only one who deals with Stark-specific articles at work, so you'll be seeing me again, I fear." The redhead laughed.

"If only all of the press was as level-headed."

"We can't all be so fortunate." She smiled briefly, and then a thought occurred to her. "Actually, there is something else I'd like to ask about—off the record."

"Be my guest."

"Stark Industries wouldn't happen to still be taking applications for Stark Tower, would they?"

"That depends on whose application and for which position." She leaned forward. "What did you have in mind?"

"My sister — brilliant girl that she is — isn't having a good time in her lab, and her bosses are looking to ship her out of the state to another facility like they've been doing to her coworkers." Dakota paused. "Studying rocks and minerals and the like for beauty products — or whatever other trial-based product it is — was never something she wanted to do. She wanted to help people and create and research technology to better the world."

Pepper held her hopeful stare. "I can't promise her a job. I can only take her application and set up a call or meeting with Mr. Stark, but I can't promise she'll get anything."

Dakota felt her heart sink for a moment before she nodded. "That's okay. A chance is all she needs. I would be grateful regardless."

"Alright. Just email me her application and résumé by tomorrow—or have her come in next week, even—and I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, Ms. Potts."

"Call me Pepper."

* * *

 **8888**

"You should've kept your nose out of it!"

"I'm _sorry_ ," Dakota insisted. "Is that what you want to hear? That I wish I didn't have the best of intentions in trying to help you get a job that you'd like better?"

Helena sent her older sister a hard look. She placed the box she was carrying on the table and let her hands rest on the top of it. "I wish you wouldn't have gotten involved. I had it covered."

"Did you really?" Dakota crossed her arms, staring at her sister from across the table. She sighed. It had been a couple of days since she and Pepper had spoken, and, though Helena, at the insistence of her sister, had sent her application to Pepper, the younger sister had been visibly distant thereafter. "I just…I know you wanted to work elsewhere. I had a chance to ask Pepper—she and I hit it off rather well, and I figured I might as well try, you know? She _is_ the CEO, not to mention _dating_ Stark."

"My lab found out I was supposedly looking into a job with Stark Industries and they let me go preemptively," Helena blurted. "They did likewise to the other people on whatever list they managed to draw up of people who had applied elsewhere, or who hesitated in going along with their relocation. I was lucky enough to have had my application processed quickly enough to be in the system with the others."

"Oh…shit."

"Yeah. _Shit_."

Dakota frowned and moved to stand by her sister, placing a tentative hand on her shoulders. "Well…maybe you'll get a call from Stark. Either way…it might be for the best. You can find other things, right?"

"I can try Manhattan Laboratories. I didn't have much experience back when I applied, but now I do, and it might work out." She sounded unsure. "It's mostly medical, though, which is fine, I guess, but…and with Stark Tower, surely, an influx of scientists…. But I guess I could also switch over to prosthetics and biomedical tools at some point.

"You don't know that it's the only option, though. How about you see if you get a call from Stark Industries? Then you can try Manhattan Labs."

"I guess so. I'll have to wait anyway." Helena offered her sister a weak smile, then set out to unpack the large cardboard box on the table.

"What is that, anyway?" Helena was already ripping through the tape.

"It's from when we first moved to New York. It was in a storage unit with some of my furniture and, since Mom and I are selling everything, I emptied it out. Found this."

Curious, Dakota came to stand by her sister as she pulled the cardboard flaps apart. There were other, plastic boxes in here, containing a mixture of papers and pictures. There was a box that took up half of the width of the big one, and both sisters knew it held their parents' things—the things that remained, anyway.

Helena's hands tightened on the edges of the box. "I'm glad I didn't open this in front of Mom."

"What is it?" Dakota asked. After a moment's hesitation, Helena drew out a plastic box with files and papers, looking much less familiar than the other ones full of photos. A rather thin leather notebook was with the files.

"I think it's Dad's research."

"You mean…?"

"Yes." Helena pulled out a manila folder and, without pause, flipped it open. "It's ours." There weren't many files, but most of the entries had two divisions: DAKOTA WEISS, HELENA WEISS.


	2. Chapter 2

**I probably won't make a habit of updating within mere days, but there are some parts of the story I want to just get out there. I'd love for some reviews or constructive criticism. We're still in the exposition part of the story, but we'll be seeing some familiar characters soon. I already have an idea of where this is heading.  
**

 **Thanks!**

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9 January 2003

HELENA WEISS  
AGE: 12  
NOTES: Hours of researching and interviewing conclude that she had seen the neighbor's grandmother sneaking out to go to a Beatles concert.

* * *

 **8888**

Most of the things in the box had been shelved for later. They went through a few photographs, but decided to touch upon the files at a later date. The box had been left under the not-for-dining table (where it probably wouldn't be disturbed, anyway). An entire weekend, and then a week, had passed before Helena decided to crack open everything at Dakota's pressing inquiries.

"This is something I have to do on my own," Helena had said, the bound leather journal tightly held in her hand.

"Can I at least have my files?" Dakota asked. Helena handed her the small stack without comment. She sat down beside the younger one, a small frown on her face. "You never told me what happened, you know. And I respect that whatever happened was awful enough to get you to stop. But you can talk to me."

Helena smiled weakly. "I will. Eventually."

"Have you been by to see Pepper yet?"

"No."

Dakota let out a heavy puff of air. She placed her files on the table and tied up her dirty-blonde hair. "What are you waiting for?" she asked, trying to show patience. Helena didn't answer. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No. It's fine."

"Lena—"

"Don't you have to work today?"

"I just have to type up a report." Dakota crossed her arms. There was a tense silence for a minute before she decided to crack. "Look, I'm just worried. Maybe I'm a little naggy, but I think you _need_ a little naggy right now." She placed a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Promise me you'll go see Pepper?"

"Soon."

"Tomorrow."

"Fine." Dakota reached for her stack of files. "Go grocery shopping tomorrow, please? I'll be back later."

And then Helena was left alone with her own files and the little leather book of her accounts. She both did and didn't want to look through it. The temptation was incredibly strong. There was both a burning curiosity and a heavy fear. Sadness, too, because she knew the cost. She knew the cost all too well, she thought, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Helena, fed up with her indecision, dumped everything in the box and stuffed it under the table. She went and showered, tied her wet brown hair into a braid, and put in her contact lenses that she kept for special occasions (they weren't recommended for use in the lab for safety reasons). She took to her eyes with black liquid liner—her strong suit when it came to makeup—for a subtle cat eye. She tried to ignore the patches of ash brown inside of her grey-blue eyes.

Moping in the apartment, unemployed, was going to do her no good. Knowing she needed to get out, raiding her sister's closet seemed like a good idea. It would've been if Dakota hadn't have gotten home in time to see Helena indecisively pushing at hangers.

"Raiding my closet, Lena?" Dakota stood in the doorway with a mischievous smirk. "Oh, and you did your eyes, too!" She walked over to Helena, who made a sound of contempt. "Were you planning on inviting me on your night out or running off to shenanigans?"

"I didn't really think about it," she admitted, sitting on Dakota's bed in her robe and abandoning her search. "I just needed to go somewhere. Anywhere, really."

"How about you let me shower and we'll get dressed and go somewhere together, then?" Dakota offered. "I'll be designated driver tonight." Helena laughed.

"Kota, we walk everywhere."

"Even better—no one has to be designated driver!"

In about half an hour, Dakota and Helena were done up. Dakota had made sure Helena's brown hair was dry before taking it out of the braid and letting it hang in loose waves. Her own hair was made pin straight. Dakota decided to don a shimmery gold dress that clung to her torso, and Helena was placed in a deep pink strapless dress with a blue jacket on top. It was approaching dusk, so they decided to get going. Apparently, there was a place where Dakota sometimes went with her coworkers (who were just a bit more interesting than Helena's coworkers). It wasn't a terrible establishment, she claimed.

It really wasn't. It was a bowling alley as well as a restaurant and sports bar, though the bowling alley was slightly far removed from the latter two. There was a distinctly separate area for each section, complete with different flooring and all, and the bar had its own dance floor. It was actually a big space, considering all the services that fit in the floorplan. All in all, it was a nice-looking place, or so Helena thought. It was clean and had a decent mix of males and females who didn't look sketchy. Dakota, moving with far more ease than her sister, ordered them drinks.

"You look _so_ at ease," Dakota teased. Helena scowled. "Oh, don't do that thing with your face here. You'll scare away people who want to talk to you. Have a drink." She raised her glass and smiled, already getting started.

"I'll be fine in a moment," Helena replied, taking a smaller sip than her sister. It wasn't that she'd never been to a bar or had drinks before, but it'd been so long. The last person she'd gone out for drinks with was a coworker named Mally who was transferred to Oregon. They still emailed occasionally, but she wasn't as close to any of the other people who had remained. And, at any rate, she was fired.

Helena took a bigger sip. It was definitely going to be the night for it.

Dakota jumped up as a song she recognized started playing. With a wink at her sister, she escaped to the dance floor, winding her way through the crowd. She had enough time to finish her drink and make a trip to the bathroom before Dakota returned, glistening from exertion, and dropped into a seat next to her.

"Some interesting people in the crowd," the older sister commented with a wide grin. "Saw an ex of mine—a nice one—and we danced for a bit. His girlfriend was ridiculously calm about it all—in fact, I danced with her, too!" Helena shook her head. "Why don't you join me?"

"These shoes are not for dancing," she replied, lifting her ankle slightly to point out the tall, strappy black heels. Dakota shrugged. "Maybe after another drink."

Dakota and Helena remained at the bar for a little bit, making small talk with the bartender as they sipped on various fruity drinks. At one point, Dakota excused herself to go to the bathroom, and the bartender went to tend to other patrons, so Helena found herself alone again, but not for long.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

It took another couple for Helena to realize that _she_ was the one being spoken to. To her left, having just gone up to the bar to order and currently waiting on a drink, was a rather handsome young man. He had floppy light brown hair, light skin, and freckles. Tall, and looked rather muscular even through his black jacket—in fact, he looked confident and self-assured. It was a little odd, but nevertheless interesting.

"Hi," she said dumbly as he smiled at her.

"I'm sorry about this," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. His voice may have been bashful but his face was devoid of a blush. "My sister over there insisted I come talk to you." He gestured over his shoulder towards a woman who was trying very hard to be discreet. Helena glanced over at the auburn-haired woman and back at this man, her face contorting into an amused, albeit confused, expression.

"Why?" The corner of her lips quirked into something like a smile as he seemed to almost blush.

"I might've said you were the most beautiful woman at the bar." Helena's face grew hot from mixed embarrassment and pleasure. She laughed before she could stop herself.

"I'm sorry," she said, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. "You must not have seen my sister, then."

"I'm sure my opinion wouldn't change." He grinned, his posture straighter and his stance open. He held out his hand. "My name's Riley."

"Helena." She shook his hand—firm and calloused, and larger than her own. And warmer. "You from around here, Riley?"

"Grew up in Queens, actually," Riley replied. "Haven't been back for a long time, though." The bartender returned with two tall drinks for Riley.

"Manhattan's treating you well, then, I'm assuming?"

"Oh, no, I don't live here. Just visiting my sister. Speaking of, I should probably get her drink to her. Would you care to come with?" He flashed her a half-smile.

"I should probably wait for my sister to get back, actually." Helena found herself rather amused by his presence.

"Then I'll be right back." Riley picked up the two drinks and wandered over to his sister—a waifish girl who wore a loose, flowy white dress. Her auburn hair was wild and long, and she had a single braid in it that contained only brown hair. Helena found herself intrigued by the color pairing, and she looked away rather quickly when she realized the siblings were heading her way.

"Helena, this is my sister, Ryan. Ryan, Helena."

The girls chinked glasses in lieu of shaking hands. "I like the name Ryan for a girl," Helena said unabashedly. "It's kind of…buoyant. And defiant."

"I'd certainly like to think so," Ryan said, a smirk curving her red lips. Her vibrant green eyes seemed to glitter. She had constellations spelled across her face in freckles, but it suited her rather well. It only made her seem more alive, as odd as that thought was to Helena. "Also, our parents were expecting another boy. So they weren't exactly prepared with a girl name."

"Better than your own father calling you _Hel_." The siblings laughed. Helena smiled contently as she finished her drink. She was just ordering a mojito when her older sister decided to make an appearance.

"Oh, there you are." Helena took a glance at her sister and decided she would not be having any more to drink. Her face was flushed and smiling, but it was a little too easy to read her sister's thoughts when they were written on her face.

"Didn't realize it was you here because you were actually smiling, and _interacting_ ," Dakota stated, shaking her head, then pausing as if the motion were uncomfortable.

"Riley, Ryan, this is my sister, Dakota. Dakota, Riley, Ryan."

"Thank you for not allowing my lovely sister to be a stick-in-the-mud by herself over here," Dakota said by way of greeting. Helena's smile tightened, but they seemed to take it in stride.

"Ah, I bet my brother's a bigger stick-in-the-mud," Ryan said. "I take full credit for arranging this meeting." She elbowed her brother, who rolled his eyes.

"It's nice to meet you, Dakota," Riley said. His eyes flickered to Helena and they shared an amused glance.

"Likewise," Dakota said. "Are you two from around here?"

"I am," Ryan replied. "Riley's just visiting while he's on leave."

"On leave?" Helena asked.

"Air Force," Riley answered, somewhat apprehensively.

"That's pretty cool." Helena hummed under her breath, her mind suddenly picturing Riley in all matter of Air Force uniform. She understood the rather confident vibe he gave off, despite being sheepish, earlier. Riley seemed glad of her positive response and took that as invitation to continue.

"I'm on my second tour, actually. Just a pararescueman, but I love what I do." He looked so pleased—it was an odd mixture of pride and humility that Helena had fun trying to grasp.

"Well, while you regale Helena with your tales of bravery, Mr. Air Force," Ryan interjected, "Dakota and I have agreed that _this song just demands to be danced to._ Back in a bit!" Dakota threw her sister a wink and departed with the auburn girl.

Riley merely sighed, a soft grin on his face. "Sisters."

Helena tried to fight back a beam. "Sisters," she agreed.

* * *

 **8888**

It was too loud.

Dakota had her pillow over her face, but there was no way of stifling the sounds of her sister's incessant talking. She almost wanted to punch her. The younger Weiss was sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed, going on about nothing. Actually, she was saying something.

"…and that's why you should probably not challenge anybody Irish to liquor-drinking. I know we have some German, but, _clearly_ , not enough of it stayed with— _OOMPH!_ "

Dakota sat up, a tired smile on her face. She didn't actually expect the pillow to connect with her sister's face, nor with the force that it did so, but she was rather pleased. Helena was not.

"You're irritating when you're hungover."

" _You're_ irritating when I'm hungover."

Dakota stretched out in her bed, making sure to push Helena so that she stumbled to get to her feet before falling off. Helena made a noise of indignation but refused to comment.

"I made scrambled eggs," Helena said. "You know, because I'm the best sister ever. There's water and some aspirin in the kitchen for you."

A glass of water, an aspirin, and some scrambled eggs later, Dakota and Helena were seated in the living room.

"What happened after the contest?" Dakota asked, idly playing with strands of her hair. Helena looked up from where she was filling out a Sudoku puzzle.

"You were being obnoxious and we left after you spilled tequila on yourself while trying to take another shot." Dakota groaned. Then, all of a sudden, she perked up.

"That guy—Riley? Did you get his number?" Her face split into a Cheshire grin. Helena busied herself with her Sudoku, her face burning. "He seemed pretty interested in you, if you ask me. Ryan agreed."

Helena sighed. "Yes, we swapped numbers. We also got Ryan's, if you recall, but probably not."

"Are you going to call him?" Dakota threw a cushion at Helena when she wouldn't respond. "Lena!"

"Yes?"

"He was _damn_ fine."

"And on active duty. Air Force, or didn't you remember?" Dakota fell silent. "Yeah. He's on leave because of some family issue—I didn't press it. He's going back next week, though."

Dakota mumbled something suspiciously close to, "Still hot." She shuffled around the living room, decidedly feeling much better than she had when she woke up. "Hey, Lena. Let's go see Pepper. See if she has anything to say with regards to the job."

Helena agreed, and, within twenty minutes, the two of them were heading down the stairs of their apartment building. Stark Tower wasn't _too_ far, but they stopped for coffee on the way and ended up arriving there early afternoon. There was more activity than Dakota had seen when she'd dropped by to chat with Pepper a few days prior. Teams of people were moving boxes of furniture in and the elevators were well occupied. Dakota asked one of the more official-looking workers where Pepper Potts might be found and was directed to the twentieth floor, so they hopped into an elevator with a couple men with slim boxes and made their way up.

As it turned out, most of the boxes were headed there anyway. It seemed like they were tackling the task floor by floor. Pepper was overseeing where everything was going, and when she saw the girls, she waved. Her crisp business suit and her clipboard let them know things were a bit busy, but, evidently, she felt that everything was enough in control. Pepper made her way over to them, greeting each of them warmly although it was Helena's first time meeting her.

"Hello! You must be Helena," Pepper said.

"It's an honor meeting you, Ms. Potts," Helena replied.

"Please, just Pepper."

The ladies stepped into a division that seemed to be Pepper's makeshift office for the day. Her laptop and bag were on a desk, and they each took seats. Dakota was particularly jubilant, asking about the other nineteen floors below this one and being assured by Pepper that they were indeed trying to tackle one a day. Some floors after the twenty-third were going to be skipped, so she was excited to see the project ending soon. The top ten floors would all be Tony's to supervise, and Pepper couldn't wait to hand off decorating and stocking to him at that point, sure that the end result would be mildly amusing.

"They should be taking their break soon, I think," Pepper said. She retrieved her laptop and opened it up. "Oh, Helena—I've been so busy that I haven't looked into your application since it was submitted. Would you like me to ask about that now?"

"If you could, that would be great," Helena replied, feeling anxious all of a sudden. Pepper nodded.

"I'll pull it up now. You did apply rather late, so I can't promise anything…I did mention you to Mr. Stark, but he's been busy, so I wouldn't be surprised if he hasn't gotten around to it." Helena couldn't see Pepper's screen, but the woman was clearly searching through something. The redhead furrowed her brow, excused herself, and went to make a phone call.

"I don't think I'm getting the job," Helena said suddenly. Dakota gave her a hard look.

"Don't say that."

"It's okay, really."

"Lena." Dakota frowned, but stopped talking the moment Pepper reentered with a look on her face that explained everything.

"I'm sorry, Helena," Pepper said. "I talked to Tony personally, but he'd already filled every position a while back. Figures this would be the one time he doesn't procrastinate." Helena nodded solemnly, not even acknowledging the break in decorum.

"It's okay. Thank you for everything, Pepper," Helena replied, a tight, sad smile on her face.

"If anything opens up, we'll call you, okay? I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

"That's fine. Thank you."

* * *

 **8888**

Helena was, as of yet, unemployed. She'd applied to several places but heard nothing back. The only thing she'd managed to get somewhat started was some freelance tutoring. Ryan had turned out to be an art teacher at a local high school, and she'd suggested Helena tutor kids in science as a way to make a little money. She had been over for lunch one day, having decided to follow up on Dakota's drunken invitation from a few nights back. It turned out to be decent enough, what with Ryan having fished a couple of students for her.

A few days before he was supposed to be returning to base, Riley contacted Helena. He asked her out to coffee, and at her sister's insistence, she went.

"Shipping out soon, then?" Helena said over a hot white chocolate mocha. Riley had opted for a latte.

"Flying out, actually," he quipped. "But yes. I'll be gone for a while. Eight months, approximately."

"Eight months is a long time. How am I supposed to survive my sister and now _yours_ as well?" Riley smiled, and, as Helena realized the implication, she blushed.

"I'm willing to bet you're tougher than you look."

"What are you trying to say about how I look?"

He laughed. "You missed the point entirely." She threw an empty sugar packet at his head. He retaliated with a crumbled napkin.

"What's it like over there?" Helena asked suddenly. "Are most men in uniform stuffy like the stereotype? Because you're surprisingly loose."

Riley's brow furrowed. "Thank you? I think?" He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Some people are. Not most." He paused to drink from his coffee. "My partner and I are a little jokey—some of us are—but we get the job done." He smiled fondly. "Actually, it's a little like a family there sometimes. We're kind of brothers. My best friend, Sam, is actually my partner. We didn't really like each other at first—I think we didn't get each other's sense of humor yet—but there are some things you can't go through without becoming best friends."

"Sam is a pararescueman, like you, then?"

"Yeah. There's a bunch of us on a team, but Sam and I are generally the ones in the air. The least scared of heights on the team—now, my sister, she can't even live in an apartment more than three floors up."

Helena snorted. "You've got to be kidding."

"Nope."

"But this is New York! Skyscraper central!"

"She lives on the second floor—I promise you that she's never been to the Empire State building."

The pair of them snickered in that coffee shop, trading funny stories about their sisters, until their coffees got cold.


	3. Chapter 3

**This is the first I've been on my laptop in a while, so I decided to post. The story's moving along, bit by bit. I have big plans for it, but, considering them, this is probably moving to a different section. Most likely Captain America / Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. crossover.**

* * *

16 June 2003

DAKOTA WEISS  
AGE: 16  
NOTES: Soft and smooth textures perfect. Abrasive textures accurate. Slimy or wet textures are patchy.

* * *

 **8888**

Dakota was having a particularly busy week. Something about a merger—Helena didn't really know. She and Dakota didn't often bother with too many details of the other's work. As it was, Helena barely had work. Sometimes she'd tutor some high school kid in biology or chemistry or calculus (the calculus kids were her favorite; if you were taking calculus in high school, you were doing well in her books). More often than not, she ended up staring at the files she didn't want to open, growing frustrated with the invisible mental block she'd made that prevented her from growing a pair and tearing into them. Dakota suggested she take up running.

So, now, that's what she was doing. And she was _pitiful._ The first few days gave her awful flashbacks to high school gym class and (what she considered) pointless physical evaluations. The wheezing was awful. The burning in her legs and chest and the soreness in her legs were not things she actively enjoyed. But she only went when she was frustrated and, since that was becoming frequent, she went a lot. She ran around her block and a few avenues down, expanding her area each time. After a while, it got easier, little by little. She was still nowhere near 'fit' levels. It was a good use of her time, though. And, eventually, she began to even like running (though she was in denial).

It helped to think of Riley. He was a rather cute guy, and he was in the Air Force. He'd already left, but his sister, Ryan, would occasionally go with Helena and Dakota out for drinks. They'd become somewhat good friends. Although she had no serious interest in Riley—she couldn't; he was on active duty and she'd only had a short time to interact with him—she wondered how training must have been like for him. The idea of being in the military had once appealed to her, back when she'd received pamphlets about West Point during her senior year of high school, but she never had the physical qualities that enlisting required. Plus, she wanted to stay close to Dakota. Since meeting Riley, however, she'd given it a bit more thought—nothing more than an idle fancy, but enough to have her give her all to running and trying to improve her physical fitness, if only to see if she _could've_ once done well. She liked to imagine Riley went through a period of time where he, too, was physically subpar.

It was after a couple weeks of running that Helena decided she was feeling a lot better than she had in a long time. The box didn't even get her frustrated anymore. So, with only a bit of hesitation, she decided to finally do something about it.

She took the journal and the manila folder and brought it to her room. She wasn't sure where to start, but she thought the files would be a good place.

The first one was dated October 26, 2002. At one point, she was sure every separate entry had its own folder, and Dakota's were compiled with her own. Things were mostly just kept together here, though they did still seem to be in order.

Attached to the first observation sheet was a picture of her. She was young—just twelve—and smiling. Dark brown hair, long and wavy, was pulled away from her face by tiny butterfly hairclips. Her face was round and she still looked so innocent. This was before she needed glasses. Her eyes were shiny grey-blue. Only the smallest of hazel patches found itself in her left eye.

For each paper of observations, there was a picture attached, sometimes multiple. Her father liked to call these files "observations" because he didn't and wouldn't consider his daughters experiments. Helena didn't understand why until she had seen what her grandfather had done to him.

There weren't many notes for the first date. It was speculation—Dakota's was much more pronounced and much more observable. Understandably, he spent a little more time on her condition. But Helena got her own journal.

 _10-26-02_

 _Dad says I have to write what I see. I saw what Mom was bringing home for dinner_ and _Grandpa showing up as a surprise. Dad didn't seem too happy though. Maybe if I start writing I'll see something he likes._

Helena traced over her childish scrawl on the first page of the journal, letting her finger follow the sharp curves of her past. It wasn't so bad. Maybe she'd go through each of the papers with Dakota later. For now, she was just curious to see how things progressed. It'd been so long.

She skipped a few dates and ended up in June 2013. The picture attached featured her face, eyes open wide for the camera. The patch of hazel had grown larger by then. Her right eye also had a spot of hazel. Still before glasses. It was rather unsettling how she seemed less naïve with the passing of just a half year. But, then, she supposed she had seen a few things.

 _7-16-03_

 _It gets easier to see things now. It's not just what's going to happen or what already happened. I can actually see what happens_ right now! _It's kind of cool but for some reason Mom and Dad worry. They worry about Dakota too. They worry a lot. I'm not allowed to tell anybody. Especially not Grandfather. I think it's because of what Grandfather did to Dad. I didn't like him very much after I saw that either._

It gave her goosebumps to think about that. Helena closed the journal and the files. Enough for one day. Time for a run.

* * *

 **8888**

It felt like Dakota had been sitting in her office all day, but she'd only just sat down to finish editing the details about the recent merger between two major companies. Eventually, she managed to get through it and sent it off to the editor, excited to be that much closer to getting home. She absentmindedly set about organizing her notes and workstation.

Helena had been worrying her. She was tutoring, sure, but that wasn't where her passion was. How much longer could she hold out? She had taken Dakota's suggestion to start running a bit too seriously. It was as if, since she couldn't do research and had the time, she was throwing herself into something that she could improve in. It wasn't bad, either. Exercise was healthy. But Dakota wondered if that was all it was.

She'd seen Helena finally looking into their old files. She seemed to take them well. She wouldn't read more than a couple entries at a time. Though she would willingly share the observations with Dakota, she mostly kept her journal to herself. It would've been fine if there wasn't something that obviously troubled her each time she read through it.

Mostly, Dakota was worried that Helena would be tempted. Before, she wouldn't have believed Helena would ever go back. Her newfound interest in her old journal was curious, though. Dakota hoped Helena would never try, not when they knew the consequences now.

After Dakota left work, she picked up some fast food and headed home. Helena's keys were hanging by the door, so her sister was home, but it was quiet. After depositing her bags in the kitchen, she grabbed a water bottle and walked into the living where Helena was sitting back in an armchair. Her brown ponytail peeked over the top of the chair.

"Hey," Dakota called, taking a sip of water. "I brought food."

There was no response from Helena. Dakota's brows furrowed and she walked forward to check if her sister was napping. She dropped the bottle of water.

Helena was sitting still, almost as if napping. Her eyes were open, however, and they were glazed over. Her heterochromatic irises were glowing gold, and her journal was open on her lap. Her hand was closed over something black.

" _LENA_ ," Dakota exclaimed, kneeling in front of Helena. She placed a hand on her sister's leg, jostling her slightly in an attempt to rouse her. Her face grew more frantic the less her sister responded. It took a few seconds for the gold to fade away and for Helena's eyes to come back into focus. Dakota was red-faced, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Dako—"

"What were you thinking?" Dakota said, her voice a harsh whisper. Helena couldn't meet her eyes. "You know what'll happen! You want to get _worse?_ "

"No," Helena mumbled, feeling a bit like a child being chastised.

"Why did you do that?"

Helena held up a stopwatch in one hand. "I wanted to see how relative the time was, if it was constant."

Dakota's expression darkened. "How many times?"

"This is the first, Kota—"

"Is it?" she snapped. Dakota pushed herself up off the floor and headed to the kitchen. Helena followed.

"Yes, it is!" Helena huffed. When she next spoke, her voice was quieter. "I have nothing else to research. Might as well."

"If you must experiment on something, use _me_ , for God's sake, don't use yourself." Dakota set about taking out the food she'd bought and serving them. She handed Helena's plate to her, and the younger girl began to eat.

"I don't blame you, Kota. For back then." She was barely more than a whisper. "You didn't know." They didn't speak again until they had both finished eating, but Helena could tell by the way her sister's left hand was tightly balled up that she felt guilty.

"Lena, please never do that again." Her voice was softer, but firm. "You know as well as I do that you'll go blind if you keep going. I don't want that for you. Besides, you'd crash into everything in the apartment and I'd have to keep buying replacements."

Helena smiled a little ruefully. "I'm sorry. It's just hard. I'm so curious. And I think I'd understand a lot more now that I did then. I could figure things out. I at least want to know what I'm stuck with."

"I know. And I'm sorry, but you can't. What if, once you're blind, you can never see anything ever again? Not even visions? If you need something to do that badly, I'd rather you try researching me. It doesn't cost me anything. I'll give you some goddamn skin cells if you want."

"You can keep your goddamn skin cells." Helena sighed. "No, it's fine. I won't do it again. And…I'm sorry. I know you feel guilty that it doesn't cost you anything. I know you've stopped using it because of that. You don't need to."

"Lena…."

"Really. You should try it out again. I bet you suck now."

Dakota snorted. "Just a bit out of practice."

Helena shuffled closer to her sister, a smile spreading across her face. "Show me."

The blonde gave her sister and appraising look before she turned to the counter where they were seated. She picked up a metal fork in between her fingertips and concentrated.

It had been so long. She wasn't sure what to feel once the familiar sensation of prickling warmth spread over her fingertips and to her entire hand. Within mere moments, her hand was the silvery alloy of the fork.

"Beginner's luck." Helena elbowed her sister. "Can you do it again with the plate?"

And this was how they spent a good portion of the afternoon getting Dakota to mimic various textures and patterns of inanimate objects around the apartment.

* * *

 **8888**

 _9-3-03_

 _They were beautiful. Dad was standing tall and Mom was standing slightly less tall next to him, trying to kiss his cheek. I haven't seen Mom and Dad like that in a long time. Mom was hugging Dad and saying something about staying together, safe. Dad's hair wasn't gray yet. I don't even think Dakota was born. Mom was so young there compared to now. She wore less makeup. And Dad was holding her, saying something about Grandfather asking him to work with him. They didn't look happy about it._

* * *

 _9-19-03_

 _I asked Dad to see his legs. I haven't asked before. He wasn't surprised that I knew. I'd seen them in my head before, but it was different. They were shiny and metal. He said he could even sort of feel with them, too. Like, if I put my hand on his leg, he could sort of feel the warmth. Something about nerves. Dad started explaining to me how it worked, from what he knew. I didn't get it, but I wanted to. They were so cool. I almost asked for my own pair, but I remembered how he had gotten them. I never wanted Grandfather to do that to me._

* * *

There were only a handful of pictures of Alwin and Adaliz Weiss. The girls' mother was mostly of French origin. In the photograph, her light brown hair was tied into a low chignon at the back of her head, and her pouty lips were stretched thin into a smile. Her eyes were a bright blue, and she was fairer-skinned than her husband and either of her two daughters. Alwin Weiss was a dark-haired man with light eyes and a heart-shaped face. He sat in a wheelchair, holding his wife's hand while she stood at his right. Though one couldn't tell from the photograph, his legs below his knees were missing.

They weren't always. There were once several pictures of him standing tall beside his dainty wife, smiling as he held his eldest daughter's hand and carried his newborn in the crook of his arm. He always took to wearing long pants, and it wasn't until Helena did a bit of snooping that she discovered he'd had prosthetic legs for years, before he even met Ada. Not the usual prosthetics, either. Her grandfather had made them for him, these ridged, metallic calves that he attached to his knees. They were preferable to the ordinary prosthetics, supposedly, but he never wore anything out in public that wasn't able to hide them.

After their grandfather and father became estranged, Helena and Dakota's father got rid of the prosthetics and simply chose to remain in a wheelchair. He didn't like talking about it.

They remembered their father well. After all, they were teenagers when he died, and Ada made sure to remind her daughters of him rather often. Dakota had just graduated from high school and Helena was in her sophomore year. Dakota was set with a partial scholarship to a school in New York (as well as whatever Ada could contribute), and Helena had to remain at home, finishing high school. It was an awful period of two years where the girls sent letters often, but rarely got to see each other as Helena remained in Washington, D.C. She stayed with her mother and godfather, one of her parents' dearest friends. When Helena was old enough to get her full scholarship to a university in New York, they decided that it would be best if Helena lived on-campus while Dakota made the move to a small apartment of her own. The girls usually went to visit their mother for holidays, albeit a little reluctantly on Dakota's part.

It was a long road to get to where they were, relatively comfortable in a medium-sized apartment. Rent had been a little tight since Helena became unemployed, but she paid for groceries with what she earned with tutoring. It was a temporary situation. Their mother didn't need to know, though they still spoke with her often enough. Whenever she asked about Helena's job, she would merely say that it wasn't anything new or interesting.

She didn't want to apply to work in retail. Her pride wouldn't let her, but she couldn't wait forever for another research opportunity to pop up. She sent an application to Manhattan Labs and would hear back from them soon, she hoped. At the very least, she could be a phlebotomist. That would be better than bagging purchases at Whole Foods.

Helena was running more often. It had become a calming routine, and she was better for it. She told her mother, and Ada had bought actual workout clothing and decent shoes to send her, even going so far as sending some for Dakota in case she wanted to join Helena on a run. Dakota was surprised at her sister's commitment—though it was partially because she really didn't know what else to do that wouldn't make her frustrated with her current situation. Sometimes she ran in the early morning, and sometimes she ran in the afternoon.

One of these afternoons, it began rain halfway through. Helena was not so dedicated as to risk her ankle or shin, so she walked, head down, hoping the rain would lighten up as she didn't have an umbrella. She ducked under overhangs wherever she could, but she really just wanted to get home. She had no choice but to wait for a while under an overhang when the rain suddenly started pouring, and she wouldn't risk her phone walking through that.

Helena leaned back against the outside wall of the small mart she'd stopped by. She tilted her head back slightly and to the right to let a bit of the rain fall onto her cheeks. She'd dry her glasses later. It was after a few minutes of standing there, the sound of the rain all around her, that she heard a soft mewling sound. She removed her glasses, wiped them as best she could, and replaced them on her face before she attempted to scope out the mewling sound. It was, she thought, a small cat somewhere around here. Normally, that wouldn't interest her, but it was raining rather heavily. Surely, no cat in their right mind would be out in this downpour.

The sound was coming from the alley beside the shop. Helena, tucking her phone into the top of her waistband and hoping for the best, darted into the alley to where she thought she heard the sound. She was about ready to return to the overhang when she found a thoroughly soaked cardboard box that could, if her suspicions were correct, have once been used to leave kittens. She lifted up one of the flaps and, sure enough, there was a frightened kitten, looking especially tiny with its fur stuck to its bones.

Helena did not want to have bloodied arms. She took hold of the cardboard box and cradled it, more or less awkwardly, and brought it back to the overhang. And she waited.

When the rain lightened enough that it was just barely sprinkling, Helena headed home, trying not to jostle the cat. Needless to say, Dakota was wide-eyed when a dripping Helena entered with a sopping cardboard box.

"What's—"

"Rescued a cat," Helena interjected. "I wonder if PETA will hire me." She placed the cardboard box on the kitchen counter and went to go get some towels. Dakota pulled open the wet cardboard.

"Ooh! Lena!"

"What?"

"She looks like you!"

"… _what?_ "

Helena reentered the kitchen with a shoebox, a couple of small towels, and one large towel draped across her neck. Dakota was already setting out a bowl of milk, and Helena set the small towels in the shoebox and went to relocate the kitten when she saw it. The small, damp kitten was probably going to be yellow, white, and tawny when its fur dried, but its eyes were the distinctive feature. Helena resisted the urge to sigh obnoxiously when she saw it had both a blue and a green eye. Dakota giggled.

"She's _your_ cat."


End file.
